Merging The Mirrors (by Sexghosts)
by CatandKaraForever
Summary: The morning after, or rather, the evening after.


**Merging The Mirrors (by Sexghosts)**

 **Fandom: Supergirl  
Author: Sexghosts (Archive of Our Own author, this work is merely copied to get more publicity for them)**

 **Rating: M**

Cat stirred against the warm, solid body in the bed next to her. What had happened was almost more than she could take in. She could already hear Dr. Rosensweig's uncontrollable cackling as she explained her new situation.

Cat was now forced to reconcile the mousy assistant, the protege who needed her guiding hand, with the hero who had thrown herself in the path of ten thousand volts to protect her, who had stopped a train with her bare hands to rescue Carter off of it. And now she was piecing together that every moment of mentoring she'd given Kara, she'd been mentoring Supergirl, too. She'd thought of herself as "making" her a hero, in the sense that she'd branded her, packaged her, and hung the Tribune's hopes on her success. But now she was reckoning with the fact that she had been "making" her in a much more literal sense; that every word of advice she gave Kara, she'd been giving Supergirl. She was never one to demur when power was offered to her, but it was mildly frustrating to learn she'd had it without realizing.

The hero needed her guidance as much as the mousy assistant. And the mousy assistant had hidden depths of strength that Cat had both guessed were there, and also vastly underestimated. It was going to take time to merge these mirror images into one.

Kara stirred in response to Cat's movement. "Cat," she sighed sleepily.

"Still here, Supergirl," Cat said gently. She kissed Kara's shoulder, and lay watching as she seemed to drift back off to sleep.

The light of sunset was deep orange through Kara's bedroom window, the long shadows of the blinds creeping up the wall. Cat rolled out of bed and moved toward the door. She was thirsty. She paused. Kara's place was a little drafty, and there was the cape for her super suit lying in a heap on the floor with the rest of it. She hesitated for a half-moment, then picked it up, tugged it loose from the suit and wrapped it around herself as she strolled out into the kitchen. She couldn't deny she felt a little frisson at climbing out of Supergirl's bed and walking around in Supergirl's cape. She couldn't quite work out what the material was, but it felt light, sturdy and breathable, and was enough to keep the drafts off of her skin.

And there was a big goddamn red "S" on it.

She padded over to the refrigerator and opened it. It was a little bare, but there was a pitcher of water in it, so she pulled it out and set it on the counter, hoping to find herself a glass in one of the cabinets, when her search was interrupted by hands on her waist, and a whisper in her ear, "You look really hot in my cape."

She found herself being spun around gently, and looking into Kara's face. "You like this, do you?"

"I do," Kara breathed appreciatively. She was naked and looking at Cat hungrily. "I think I need to have you again, right here."

"Oh, come on, Kara," Cat protested weakly. She couldn't help but smile, though. Now that Kara had experienced sex the way it was supposed to be, she wanted more. "I just woke up."

Kara pressed her back against the fridge. "So?" she demanded, nipping at her neck and sliding her hands down to Cat's hips.

"And I'm hungry."

Kara's mouth found its way down to Cat's and kissed her hotly for a moment. "So am I."

"For food," Cat objected after a moment. But she wasn't exactly discouraging Kara, one arm snaking around the girl's waist to press her tighter.

"Well, I have some cold leftover Chinese." Kara continued to kiss her mouth, rubbing herself against Cat through the fabric of the cape.

"Ugh," was Cat's only response in between deep, hot kisses. "I'm not hungry enough to eat that."

"You will be," Kara answered naughtily. She gripped Cat's hips and lifted her clean off of the floor, the cape dropping open. She laid her warm, open mouth on the front of Cat's body as she lifted her, dragging Cat's exposed chest and belly against her lips and tongue.

"Oh my God," Cat muttered under her breath, "I'm too old for this."

"I'll stop if you want," Kara teased.

"The hell you will," Cat snapped back. "You're going to fuck me, in your cape, against this fridge until I'm hungry enough to eat cold, cheap Chinese food."

Kara chuckled. "Of course, _Miss Grant_." She lifted Cat higher and Cat understood her intention, hooking one leg and then the other over Kara's strong shoulders, leaning back against the refrigerator. She was sitting high enough that she was able to rest her elbows on top of it while Kara supported her weight effortlessly, burrowing her face in between Cat's legs and sliding her tongue into her, probing and pushing at her entrance and then working up to her throbbing clit. She moaned, louder than she meant to, but she couldn't make herself care. Kara's study time had clearly helped, but so had actually being able to feel being fucked. A thought occurred to her.

"Kara, darling…?" she panted.

Kara paused for a moment and glanced up. "Hmm?"

"I'm just curious about something?"

"What's that?"

"Just exactly how quickly _can_ you move that tongue of yours?"

This was a question that she would never, ever regret asking, as the downstairs, upstairs, AND next door neighbors would attest.

They sat on the couch together, Cat still wrapped halfheartedly in the cape, Kara covered in the plaid throw she kept on the arm of the couch, eating microwaved chicken with broccoli in brown sauce and roast pork lo mein.

"See?" Kara nudged. "It's okay, right?"

Kara had insisted that the place she ordered from was not half bad, that it was really "down home and authentic," and Cat had skeptically accepted that when she realized that it was either eat that or make herself presentable enough to order something else and deal with a delivery person, and she was not very interested in doing that. "Authentic? Are you sure there's no dog in it?"

Kara stuck her tongue out. "Come on. No, no dog."

"Hm." Cat munched on the salty, slightly rubbery pork in the lo mein. "Cat, then?"

Kara folded her arms and gave Cat a disappointed look. "Cat, come on. That's a really crappy stereotype. It wasn't funny when Henny Youngman was doing it in the Catskills fifty years ago. And I know you wouldn't be saying that if we were at Shanghai Rose."

Cat arched an eyebrow back at her. "At $40 a plate, it damn well better not be tAbby or terrier."

Kara shook her head. "And neither is this. I go there all the time, they make everything fresh and by hand. That joke was cheaper than this food."

Cat frowned and then relented, reluctantly. "Fine, Kara," she huffed, as if she were indulging some ridiculous impulse of hers. "I can't promise I won't make any more cheap jokes, but they won't be about that."

"Thank you," Kara replied, looking satisfied with herself. "Besides," she added, "there's only one kind of cat that gets eaten in this house." She was trying very hard to swallow a smile.

Cat smirked at her but said nothing. She watched Kara gleefully shoveling the chicken and broccoli into her mouth with the gusto of a girl who was hungry after sex. She had to admit, it pleased her to watch.

"Alright," Cat began finally, picking at the noodles stuck to her plate and grudgingly realizing that the sauce actually did have a garlicky finish to it that was quite nice, "so. Explain to me about your senses. That was the last thing you said before you fell asleep."

Kara finished the mouthful of chicken and then washed it down with some iced tea. "Well, you know I have super-hearing, super vision, all that stuff… But what all that amounts to is a really high level of sensitivity. I can't just walk around like that, I'd have a mental breakdown."

Cat nodded. "Makes sense."

"So my foster parents brought me to an occupational therapist and they did all these desensitizing exercises with me, teaching me to limit and control the input."

"So the super-vision and super-hearing is selective? You turn it off and on?"

"Basically."

Cat sipped at her ice water. "You ever use it to check out my underwear?"

Kara blushed. "Not until after we started, um… dating."

Cat gave her an evil grin.

"And yes," Kara added, "that one day a couple of weeks ago, when I was acting like a complete gibbering idiot in your office, was the day you weren't wearing any."

Cat's evil grin widened.

Kara moved things back on track. "So, anyway. It was a lot of hard work to get control of all that. The sense of touch was the hardest to learn to control, so… once I got control of that and got myself to what seemed like normal human levels, I kind of… left the wall up. There didn't seem to be any practical purpose to having super-sensitivity in that area."

Cat's eyebrow lifted. "You've since discovered otherwise."

Kara nodded enthusiastically. She set her plate down and inched closer to Cat. "I hope you're interested in helping me learn to control it." She began nibbling on the side of Cat's neck.

"So… what brought that wall down tonight?"

Kara stopped and looked at her. "You did."

Cat gazed back at her. _Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear,_ she thought again. For Earth, too dear. The last daughter of Krypton, too fucking sweet and good and tender-hearted for this chaos-riddled rock flinging itself around the sun.

"Kara," she sighed regretfully, rather wishing they could simply have sex again instead of the conversation they needed to have, "listen, we still have to talk about what this means for us at work. And, well, other things, too, but that's got to be first order of business."

Kara sighed and pulled back. She lounged on the couch.

"I think I do have to fire you."

Kara laughed. "Didn't you come here to get me to come back?"

"Yes, but that was before I knew you were Supergirl."

"What difference does that make?"

Cat sighed. "Well, you know, Kara, I'm strangely uncomfortable with sending Supergirl to fetch my coffee."

Kara didn't particularly believe her. "Come on, I thought you'd enjoy that part."

"Well, at least I know the reason why you're the only assistant to ever manage to bring me a latte that was actually hot."

"See?" Kara riposted. "You _need_ a superhero as your assistant. Nobody else can handle the job!"

Cat appreciated her refusal to be brushed aside.

"Cat," Kara persisted, "nobody pays me to be Supergirl. I still need to pay my rent, and put food on the table."

"Supergirl _does_ have a day job," Cat mused.

"Yes, and she needs it!"

"Not necessarily," Cat murmured, turning it over.

"What?"

"You could move in with me."

Kara looked excessively pleased at this thought for a moment. She shimmied closer and curled herself around Cat. "No, that doesn't work. It's too soon for us to do that. So, we have to keep me employed." Her blue eyes took on an amused little twinkle.

Cat saw it and knew it was trouble. "Oh, what could you possibly be thinking?"

"Well, if you feel funny about having Supergirl fetching your lattes…"

"Hm?"

"You _could_ promote me."

Cat snorted. "I knew it! Sooner or later you were going to ask me for a promotion!" She remembered that night in the limo, what seemed like ages ago, when Cat had thought Kara would take advantage of things and ask for a one, but didn't. She had to laugh now, though, because it really wasn't a half bad solution.

"Yeah, and I had to be your lover _and_ be Supergirl to even begin to have that conversation!"

Cat ran her fingers through Kara's hair. "How am I ever going to find another assistant anywhere near as good?"

Kara shrugged. "We'll work it out. I'll train them. It'll be fine."

Cat sighed. "You've deserved it for too long anyway." Regretfully, it was true. Kara would have been promoted ages ago if she'd only shown the gumption to ask for it. Again, the jarring realization that this same girl was also capable of flight, and of lifting her as if she were a ragdoll. "Got any more cousins?"

Kara shook her head. "No, just my aunt, but I don't think you want to hire her."

"No laser eyes?"

"Difficult personality. And I'm pretty sure she can't type."


End file.
